


The Art of Sandwiching Love

by oikabwah (greyaise)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Getting Together, Humor, M/M, Memes, Minor Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou, Slow Build, Yaku hates customer service and tbh who wouldn't, lots of swears, mainly yakulev, more relationships will probably be added, potentially alcohol, sandwich shop au, workplace shenanigans
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-21
Updated: 2017-10-18
Packaged: 2018-07-25 19:28:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7545070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greyaise/pseuds/oikabwah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Customer service sucks. Especially when you have one tall, loud, annoyingly cute new regular who won’t leave you alone. Or when you’re exiled to coffee duty after showcasing your roasting skills on a customer. Either way, it's the worst.</p><p>A Sandwich shop AU in which Yaku’s most problematic regular slowly becomes a favorite, Hanamaki finds his soulmate by roasting more than just coffee, Kenma is probably the world’s greatest tutor, and Kuroo is a safety hazard to all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Get Out of My Face and Have a Nice Day

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written in awhile but I love YakuLev and I miss writing so this was born. Hope you like it! 
> 
> Also, if you're wondering why it's a sandwich shop au and not a coffee shop au, I really like sandwiches and used to work at a shop like this :')

When that stupid, fucking front entrance bell jingled for the millionth time that day, Yaku clenched his teeth, holding back the scream threatening to escape his throat and resisting the urge to grab the nearest bread knife from the prep line and murdering the next person that came to his register. It was three in the afternoon, the hellish lunch rush was finally over, and just as he was about to rest for the first time in hours after ringing up and serving hundreds of annoying customers, another appeared out of nowhere to crush Yaku’s faith in humanity further.

Yaku liked his job, he really did. The sandwich and coffee shop, Neko Nibbles, was one of the nicest shops in town. It had two counters, one for the Neko Café, where people could purchase coffee, tea, and espresso or baked goods, and the main registers, where they could order their specialty sandwiches, all made with organic and healthy ingredients. The shop was decently sized, with a red and white color scheme and a cute cartoon cat as their logo. Paw prints decorated the glass windows and the aprons everyone had to wear.

The owner was kind, everyone was assigned manageable hours, and his coworkers were nice. They were all college-aged, like him, and the majority of them went to the same school, which allowed them to get along easily. They were usually annoying, very loud, and constantly needed supervision, but they were good people nonetheless.

Yaku’s problem was that he _hated_ the customers. The shop was a combination of the two types of eateries that attract the most difficult people – coffee snobs and health freaks. They were high maintenance and complained over the smallest things. After lunch and dinner rushes, Yaku was always physically and emotionally drained. Luckily, the shop usually died down at 3 and stayed that way until around 6, giving him some time to brace himself for his impending dinner death. 

However, sometimes customers continued coming in after the rush, trickling in slowly but constantly, crushing any hopes of recovery. 

The tinkling bell at the doorway meant today was one of those days.

“Kuroo, hide the knives. A customer just walked in and Yaku looks like he’s in for the kill,” Hanamaki said with a grin as he shuffled by Yaku behind the counter to bother the guys on ovenline.

“Don’t worry, I won’t let mom get arrested,” Kuroo replied as he swung the knife in his hand. 

“There’s no need for that, I already considered murder and decided that my current life as a minimum-wage worker who’s sold their soul to the corrupt structure of capitalist society in order to pay for a college education narrowly beats a life in prison,” Yaku retorted glumly.

“Same,” Kuroo and Hanamaki said in unison.

“If you agree, stop swinging that knife before you’re arrested for accidentally murdering Hanamaki,” Yaku scolded while glaring pointedly at Kuroo.

“It would be for the greater good.”

“Wow, I thought we were friends. I’m wounded,” Hanamaki said monotonously while placing his hands over his heart.

“Not as wounded as you will be when that knife goes through you,” Yaku replied. “Besides, why are you over here? Get back to your barista station.”

“But mom, I’m lonely,” Hanamaki whined and leaned on Yaku. “Why won’t you love me?”

“You lost my sympathy when you got yourself banned from register for behavioral issues and permanently assigned to making drinks, forcing me to deal with all of these shitty customers instead.”

“Okay, it wasn’t ‘behavioral issues,’” Hanamaki argued, “I literally only told off _one_ customer and she was asking for a fight. She came up to me in the middle of a lunch rush, while I was trying to take somebody’s order, and complained about her sandwich being cut into 3/5 and 2/5 sizes instead of two even halves and that the cut wasn’t straight. Who does that??”

“You could have calmly told her to sit down,” Yaku deadpanned. “But no, instead you slammed your hand onto the counter and said ‘Listen lady, nothing in this world is equal, and if I can survive on minimum wage, then you can deal with your overpriced sandwich. Also, not everything has to be straight, at least that’s what I told my mom when I brought my first boyfriend home. Now please get out of my face and have a nice day.’”

“And I don’t regret it.”

Kuroo’s laughter came howling from the back. “C’mon, Yaku, that’s fucking gold. You have to admit it.”

Yaku tried to hold his glare, but his lips started curving upwards and trembling.

“Do you remember her expression? She looked like a fish searching for water. So worth it,” Hanamaki reminisced. Yaku finally gave up and joined in the laughter.

“Didn’t the guy who was ordering give you a high five?” Yaku gasped in between fits of laughter.

“Hell yeah he did, and he told me that that was the greatest roast he’s ever had the pleasure of witnessing,” Hanamaki said with a cocky smile.

“Please tell me you-“ 

“Hello?”  A loud, unfamiliar voice interrupted Kuroo mid-sentence. Yaku quickly composed himself, then turned around with a fake smile plastered on his face.

“Hi! Welcome to Neko Nibbles, how can I help you?”

At once glance, Yaku could already tell he hated this customer, because: 

  1. He was tall. That was the first thing Yaku noticed about the stranger he considered murdering moments ago. Yaku had to look up to see his neat, light gray hair, and he wasn’t even at the register yet. He must have been _at least_ 6 feet tall.
  2. He was loud. His voice was high (higher than Yaku’s at least) and piercing. It was the type of voice that’s almost impossible to ignore.
  3. He was sloppy. Everything about him contrasted his neat hair, most notably his outfit. The guy was wearing _neon orange, checkered shorts with a purple striped top_. He was practically screaming “I make poor life decisions.”
  4. He was really. Fucking. Tall.



The skyscraper stared intensely at the menu.

“Well, this is my first time here and-“ He began before abruptly stopping as soon as his eyes landed on Yaku. They were a vibrant green, slanted in a cat-like fashion that pissed him off. “is it legal for you to be working?”

“What?” Yaku asked, genuinely confused.

“How old are you?” The beanpole asked.

“I’m nineteen…why?” He replied cautiously.

“WHAT?? You’re nineteen??? But you’re so short!”

As soon as the words left the guy’s mouth, Yaku was done. His soul left his body, reason flew out the window, and he decided death’s sweet embrace would be fine as long as he sent this asshole to hell first.

Hanamaki’s hands came flying out of nowhere to restrain Yaku as he tried to jump the counter, stopping him mid-air with his legs flailing. Shouts and laughter (Kuroo’s laughter, Yaku would kill him later) echoed through the store.

“LETMEATHIMHANAMAKI” Yaku yelled as he swiped his arms around, clawing the air.

 “Dear valued customer, I apologize for the actions of the coworker in my arms, for he is an angry elf that doesn’t like being called short. I hope you have a nice day and don’t report us to management,” Hanamaki told the stranger with a smile.

“Why’s he mad? Short isn’t an insult! I was just worried that he was an underage worker!” The guy replied. In the back, Kuroo began wheezing.

“This kid is hysterical,” Kuroo breathed out between laughs.

“Hysterical? Why does the table in the back talk and what have I done to be funny??” Yaku’s soon-to-be-victim asked, confused. “Anyways, the menu looks cool and there’s a magic table, I can’t believe I’ve never been here before!”

“And I hope you never come back,” Yaku seethed as Hanamaki lowered him to the floor, though the customer didn’t seem to hear him.

“Yaku, please, I know it’s been a bad day but if you get fired, then who’s going to make sure everyone does their jobs right and protect us from our own stupidity?? And if that’s not enough, think of the money. Do it for your children and the money,” Hanamaki pleaded.

Yaku closed his eyes and tried to slow his breathing. Hanamaki had a point; he really needed this job to help pay for college, and if he were to be fired, the place would probably catch on fire (he still hasn’t forgiven Kuroo for leaving a sandwich on the grill for too long to play cup volleyball, causing a mini fire).

In his efforts to calm down, Yaku missed the sound of the front bell. He did however, hear the giant scream a familiar name.

“KENMA! There you are!!”

“Hi, Lev. Don’t touch me,” Kenma replied softly. Kuroo pulled himself together and peeped out from behind the prep line.

“Kenma, what are you doing here?” Kuroo asked. “And why are you with this beanpole?”

“Beanpole?” the giant – Lev? – questioned.

“I have to help Lev study, so I suggested we meet here,” Kenma answered.

“Who are you talking to, Kenma?” Lev looked over at Kuroo, curious.

“My boyfriend,” he mumbled, blushing a little.

“OH!!” Lev exclaimed. “Hi!! Nice to meet you!! My name is Haiba Lev, Kenma has been tutoring me for a week, and I’m glad you’re not a table!”

“A table...?” Kenma muttered. Kuroo chuckled, then smirked at Lev.

“I’m Kuroo Tetsurou,” he said lazily, “pinky over there is Hanamaki Takahiro, and the guy you pissed off is Yaku Morisuke.”

“What did Lev do?” Kenma asked.

“What didn’t Lev do?” Hanamaki replied.

“He called Yaku short,” Kuroo answered.

“You can’t just call people short,” Hanamaki added.

“But it’s true!” Lev whined.

“Are you going to continue testing my patience or are you going to order?” Yaku was trying his best to be calm; he had his customer service smile plastered on his face, but his left eye kept twitching every time Lev did something irritating.

“What do you recommend?” Lev asked.

“I recommend you leave this store, pack your things, get out of the country, and never come back." 

“I meant what _food_ , Yaku-san!”

Lev’s voice was really starting to get on his nerves; Yaku pinched his nose and reminded himself to breathe.

“Well, if it’s your first time here, you may just want to try our Neko Club with a drink of some sort.”

“Hm, okay, I’ll do that!”

After Lev and Kenma ordered, paid, and sat down at a table, Yaku slumped onto his register.

“As soon as I serve him his food, he’ll eat then leave and I’ll never have to see his stupid face again,” He muttered to himself.

“He can’t be _that_ bad,” Kuroo interjected. “After all, Kenma hasn’t run away.”

The two let their gazes wander into the dining area where they spotted Lev dramatically lifting the store’s kitten-shaped salt shaker in the air as though it were Simba. Once the shaker had been at the peak of its ascent for one second, Lev fumbled and accidentally dropped the kitten onto the table, shattering the container and spilling salt everywhere.

“Simba, no!” his cry echoed as he cradled the salt-ceramic mixture lovingly.

“No, he _is_ that bad.”

“Well, you’re one step closer to getting rid of him now because his order’s up,” Kuroo said with a smirk. “Don’t talk to him when you bring his food though. I think he has… enough salt to deal with.”

“I hate you,” Yaku mumbled as he grabbed the plates of food and brought them out to the loudest table in the whole shop. As soon as Lev saw him heading over, he threw his body over the salt pile on the table.

“Yaku-san, it’s not what it looks like-!” Lev cried.

“I saw you murder Simba,” Yaku deadpanned. From the corner of his eye, he saw Kenma hide his tiny smile.

“Wha- it wasn’t-“

“Anyways, here’s your food,” Yaku interjected as he unceremoniously plopped Lev’s plate down. He placed the other plate in front of Kenma much gentler, earning a soft “Thank you” from the regular. “Enjoy." 

Yaku left before he could hear any more protests. Once he reached his register, he could finally relax. He wiped down the counters, organized displays, chatted with his coworkers, and relished in the fact that _there were no customers to serve_. Just as his soul was finally ascending from hell, the same obnoxious voice that dragged him there an hour earlier interrupted his celebration.

“Yaku-san!” He boomed. He was standing in front of Yaku’s register, holding some books ( _oh yeah, Kenma said he was tutoring him,_ Yaku remembered.)

“I just wanted to tell you that the sandwich you recommended was really yummy and I’m definitely going to keep coming back here! See you soon!”

As Lev left the shop, it was as though a storm had passed.

His words, on the other hand, meant that while it felt like it was over, the storm was really just beginning.

Yaku dropped his head in his hands.

“Fuck.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> can you tell I love Lev
> 
> Thanks for reading! Comments are appreciated! (esp if I have mistakes or anything, I dont have an editor rip)


	2. Maybe you should be a Hitman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yaku is a mom, Hanamaki is in love, Kuroo likes puns a lot, and Lev is a mess. Poor Kenma.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am a mess. School is hard. I am sorry
> 
> but
> 
> I am trying to pick this up again, forgive me
> 
> and if you are reading this, enjoy. ty

Yaku drummed his fingers along the side of the register and eyed the clock. 2pm.

2-o-fucking clock in the afternoon.

He was here until 10.

Yaku groaned and dropped his head into his hands. It had been a slow day so far, and Yaku was usually all for slow days (“sign me the FUCK UP” as Hanamaki would say), but the two hours he had been at work for felt like seven. He finished all his tasks and no new customers had ordered food in the past hour.

Yaku’s stream of woes was interrupted by a slow clap from his right.

“What would you rate that one?”

Ehh, like a 5. You gotta put more _emotion_ into it, Yaku.”

“A 5?? How kind of you. I’d say a 3. Step up your game, Yaks.”

“Since when do you call me Yaks?” Yaku propped his head up and sent an annoyed look Hanamaki’s way. 

“Have I not told you yet? Oh, Yaks…” Hanamaki sighed, shaking his head. “Have I told you what I want, what I really, really want? I’ll tell you what I want, what I really, really want. Lately, I’ve been feeling as though our relationship has been stagnant. Boring. Unchanging. So, I took it upon myself to fix it. Fix us. Call me Geri, ‘cause I’m gonna Spice Up Your Life.”

“Was that a Spice Girls reference?” Kuroo asked, incredulous.

“Yes, yes it was.”

“Why am I _always_ on shift with you two?” Yaku said as he placed his head back in his hands.

“What do you mean “why”?” Hanamaki asked.

“Yaku, you should know by now that you’re special to us,” Kuroo added. 

“Yeah, I mean after all…” both boys looked at each other with mischievous grins.

“We can’t survive without our mommmmmyyyyyyyy-”

Yaku drowned out their united cry with a long, loud groan.

“There we go, that’s the content I was looking for,” Hanamaki applauded.

“69 outta 10, quality frustration. A work of art,” Kuroo praised. Hanamaki wiggled his eyebrows at Kuroo, and Kuroo returned the gesture.

“I swear, you two are the most annoying people on the face of this earth,” Yaku muttered.

“Did you hear that, Hanamaki? Mommy praised us!”

“Awwwww, Yaks~” Hanamaki cooed, sending kissy faces Yaku’s way.

“Okay, that nickname has got to go. It’s disgusting.”

“Nah, it’s sticking ‘til I find a new one.”

“Again, most annoying person on the face of this earth.”

“I don’t think _that’s_ true,” Hanamaki smirked. “What about that guy from last Saturday? You know, the Beanpole?”

The mere thought of the kid made Yaku’s head hurt. 

“Hanamaki, I’ve finally been able to forget about last week, why would you remind me.”

“Because I love you,” Hanamaki responded.

“I don’t want your love,” Yaku retorted. “And Kuroo, before you say anything, no, I don’t want yours- AGH”

Before Yaku could finish his sentence, two long arms wrapped around his body.

“Too bad, you can’t escape from our feelings,” Kuroo said as he tightened his grip on Yaku.

“KUROO LET GO OF ME RIGHT NOW OR SO HELP ME I WILL SHAVE YOUR HEAD WITH THE KNIVES IN THE KITCHEN.”

“hmmmm…” Kuroo tilted his head, pretending to think. “Nope.”

“KUROO I SWEAR I- HANAMAKI DON’T YOU DARE-“ Yaku was just about to escape from Kuroo’s grasp when Hanamaki took both of them into his arms. 

“Glad you joined the love fest,” Kuroo said, winking at Hanamaki.

“It’s not a love fest, it’s a Yaku sandwich,” Hanamaki replied.

“But Hanamaki, sandwiches _are_ love." 

“I thought you said sandwiches are art?”

“Shh…don’t question an artist’s work,” Kuroo closed his eyes. “You don’t have to understand, you just have to _feel._ ”

“Ooookkkayyy…” Hanamaki followed suit and closed his eyes.

“Yaks, you’ve been awfully quiet,” Hanamaki commented.

“I’m thinking of ways to murder both of you as soon as you let go.”

“Maybe you should become a hitman instead of a doctor.”

“Thanks to you, I’m considering it,” Yaku quipped. 

“I’m glad I’ve helped you come closer to figuring out your future. You’re welcome,” Hanamaki replied.

“Hey, did you guys hear the bell ring?” Kuroo interrupted.

“No, why?” Yaku asked.

“Because I feel another pair of arms around me.” 

“Hi guys!!!” Said an all too familiar voice. Everyone’s eyes shot open.

“LEV?!?!?!” All three employees shrieked.

“Hiya!” Lev let go of Kuroo and waved in their faces. “It’s been awhile!”

“Why are you behind the counter?” Kuroo asked as both he and Hanamaki let go of Yaku.

“I love group hugs and I wanted to join!!” He smiled.

“I’m amazed it took you that long to realize he was there,” a quiet voice commented from the other side of the register.

“Kenma?!?” Kuroo exclaimed, bewildered. “How long have you been here???”

“Lev and I walked in when Yaku shot down Hanamaki’s love confession,” Kenma responded as he covered his mouth with his hand, hiding a tiny laugh.

“It’ll be okay, Hanamaki-san! Keep fighting!” Lev said as he pat Hanamaki on the back. Kuroo and Hanamaki laughed.

“Oh no, I don’t love him like that,” Hanamaki smirked. “You see, Lev, he’s our mom.”

“Your mom???”

“Yeah, our mom.”

“Hanamaki, stop filling Lev’s head with bullshit,” Yaku scolded.

“See? Our mom.”

“Yaku-san! Yaku-san! Can you be my mom, too??” Lev begged.

“No! Why would I be your mom?” Yaku replied. “And why would you _want_ me to be your mom?”

“Because you’re cool and I want to get to know you!” Lev beamed.

“Wha-“ Yaku started, slightly flustered. “I don’t have to be your mom for you to get to know me!”

“Oh, okay! Then you don’t have to be my mom.”

“Why didn’t you ask _me_ to be your mom?” Kuroo asked, feigning offense.

“If you were my mom, then Kenma would be my dad, and I don’t want my dad to be my tutor,” Lev said, making a face.

“Pfft,” Hanamaki laughed. “I like this kid.”

“I like you, too!” Lev perked up.

“Ah, I’m sorry Lev, but I have my heart set on someone else,” Hanamaki said dramatically, placing a hand on his heart.

“Whaaaat? But I thought you said Yaku-san was your mom!”

“No no no, not Yaks. My heart belongs to a mystery man.”

“A mystery man?” Lev asked, confused.

“A tall, strong, mysterious man who likes his coffee as dark as my soul.”

“Are you talking about the guy who high-fived you when you snapped at that customer the other week?” Yaku asked.

“Yes, yes I am. I need me a mans who can appreciate a good roast.”

“Ooooh, you like a customer?” Lev interjected. “Is he a regular like Kenma?”

At that, Hanamaki sighed and rested his head on Yaku’s register.

“No, I wish. I haven’t seen him in almost two weeks." 

“Hey, get your sadness off my register,” Yaku said as he nudged him.

“Yaku, I’m in mourning. Please.”

“Ugh, you’re starting to sound like Oikawa. Get off.”

“So mean,  Mori-chan~!” Hanamaki whined, imitating Oikawa.

“I just threw up in my mouth,” Kuroo stated.

“One Oikawa is enough. I’ve lost my will to live,” Yaku added.

“Yeah, I just died a little inside,” Hanamaki deadpanned as he lifted himself off Yaku’s register. “I’m sorry to everyone who had to witness that.”

“I don’t mean to interrupt, but I _am_ being paid to tutor Lev,” Kenma said. 

“But Kenma, it’s Saturday,” Hanamaki replied. Kenma looked at him inquisitively.

“Saturdays are for the boys,” He and Kuroo said in unison.

“I’m done,” Yaku groaned.

“Yaks, you’re slipping again. There’s no way that was above a 5.”

“So, what do you want to order?” Yaku ignored Hanamaki and directed his question at Lev.

“Whatever you think I’ll like!” Lev responded.

“Huh?”

“Surprise me! I trust you, Yaku-san!” Lev said with a big smile.

“You don’t- I don’t- what do you even like?” Yaku stuttered, slightly flustered.

“I’m not picky, give me anything!” 

“Then I’ll give you the most expensive menu on the item.”

“Whaaatttttt!” Lev cried.

“You said _anything_ ,” Yaku replied innocently. 

“Ok, fine, give me your favorite then. I want to know what you like!”

 “I- what?”  Yaku stumbled over his words yet again.

“This should cover it, right?” Lev reached into his pocket, pulled out some cash, and handed it to Yaku. “You can keep the change.”

“Wait, that’s-“

“I’m gonna grab a table, Kenma!” Lev called out, then left Yaku at the register, confused and holding double the amount of money Lev’s meal was worth.

Yaku looked down at the money in his hand and furrowed his brow. _What the fuck just happened?_ Yaku asked himself as he rang up his favorite sandwich, then put the change in his tip jar. _No one ever tips me this much. Is it ok to take this? Also, I barely even know Lev, why would he trust my taste? How annoying._

“Did Lev break you?” Hanamaki asked as he poked Yaku’s face with his finger. 

“What? Stop poking me,” Yaku growled. 

“Your face is red, you’re scowling, and you’re muttering to yourself. Weird,” Hanamaki commented.

“Wh- am not!” Yaku defended himself, slightly embarrassed that he was muttering his thoughts out loud.

“Ok. Sounds fake, but ok,” Hanamaki said flippantly, then turned around and walked back to his station. Yaku watched him walk away, scrambling through his thoughts. _I’m not acting weird, Lev is the weird one. Who does Hanamaki think he is-_  

“You _are_ acting a little weird, Yaku.”

“Gah! Kenma, how long have you been there?” Yaku jumped.

“I haven’t moved since earlier.”

“Why are you just standing here??”

Kenma stared at Yaku. Hard.

“I haven’t ordered." 

_I’m an idiot_ , Yaku thought to himself as he punched in Kenma’s usual order and rang him up. Instead of walking away once the transaction was over, Kenma stayed at the register.

“Did I fuck up again?” Yaku groaned.

“No,” Kenma replied as he continued to analyze Yaku. 

“Okay…” Yaku said suspiciously. Kenma opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by a shattering noise. Kenma sighed.

“What was that?” Yaku barked, eyes honing onto the booth Lev was sitting at. Lev shot upright in his seat and put his hands up.

“Hahaha,” he laughed nervously. “Nothing!” 

“I’ll go over there,” Kenma muttered to Yaku, then walked to Lev’s booth. When Kenma made it to where Lev was sitting, his eyes narrowed and he said something under his breath. Lev looked nervous and made weird hand movements.

“What is going on?” Yaku wondered out loud.

“Why don’t you go find out?” Kuroo said behind him, making Yaku jump. “Order’s up.”

“Why do I always have to do the dirty work,” Yaku complained as he grabbed the two plates and stomped out to the customer seating area. When he reached Neko Nibbles’ only two customers, he froze. Lev’s upper body was sprawled on the table, his arms creating a circle around his area. Inside his arms lay a sea of pepper and broken, black ceramic.

“Y-your pepper shakers are r-really cute!” Lev stammered. “But really, really fragile.”

“I’m going to throw this sandwich in your face,” Yaku said monotonously.

“Nooo!” cried Lev, throwing his arms over his head for protection. Except when he swept his arms off the table to cover himself, he accidentally pulled up a pile of pepper and flung it at Yaku’s face. Silence filled the restaurant.

“Hey,” came Kuroo’s voice from the sandwich prep line. “Looks like things are getting a little…spicy between you two.” 

Hanamaki broke down laughing.

Yaku just broke. 

His left eye twitched (partially due to anger, partially due to pepper in the face) as he forced a smile across his face. A pained, throbbing smile that screamed _God kill me before I murder you_.

“Enjoy your food,” Yaku finally said after a tense silence. He dropped their food in front of them (he dropped _Lev’s_ food. He put Kenma’s down carefully, because Kenma was an actual saint if he could deal with being Kuroo’s boyfriend AND Lev’s tutor), and walked away without another word.

“At least we have an even number of salt and pepper shakers now,” Hanamaki wheezed once Yaku returned. But Yaku didn’t stop at his register. 

“Where are you going?” Hanamaki asked once he collected himself. 

“Sweden,” Yaku replied, eyes devoid of life. 

“Why?”

“To start a new life.” 

“Oh.”

“I’m leaving.”

“Buy me chocolate.”       

“No,” Yaku responded as he walked into the bathroom. He could hear Hanamaki saying something about him being cheap as he washed his face of pepper. After drying his face, Yaku went back to the register. A few customers came in, so he rang them up and served them. Then he cleaned the restaurant a bit, scolded Kuroo for manhandling his knives, and tried to push all thoughts of the annoying, tall, clumsy, and weird customer sitting in the corner booth.

About an hour or two after the ceramic pepper kitten’s death, Lev nervously approached Yaku’s register.

“What do you want.”

Lev continued to stand awkwardly in front of the register.

“Hey, I said-“

“SORRY ABOUT YOUR FACE,” Lev shouted and bowed. Yaku looked down at him with wide eyes.

“No need to apologize,” Kuroo’s voice interrupted. “Yaku was born with that face. There’s nothing we can do, kid.”

“Kuroo I swear to god,” Yaku began to turn around and lift his arm to give Kuroo a good beating. 

“NONONO,” Lev stood up quickly. “I mean sorry for throwing _pepper_ in your face!! Yaku-san has a cute face, I would never insult it!” 

Yaku froze mid-swing.

“By the way, I loved the sandwich! You have great taste, Yaku-san!”

Yaku slowly turned his head back to Lev, unable to process what was happening.

“Anyways, I promise I won’t break anything next time! See you soon!”

With that, Lev beamed at Yaku, then ran off. Yaku’s eyes stayed fixed on the spot where Lev once stood.

“Did…did he just…” Yaku started. “Did he just call me…cute?”

“You bet he did,” Hanamaki whistled. “He also said that he’d be back. Get ready, Yaks.”

Yaku stared at the spot Lev was in for a moment longer before finishing his swing, hitting Kuroo’s arm. 

“Ouch!” Kuroo cried. He looked down at Yaku. His eyebrows were furrowed angrily and his face was bright red.

“Oh, I’ll be getting ready…” Yaku said ominously.

“…getting ready to FUCKING KILL HIM.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up next: More shenanigans and dat boi who captured makki's heart. o shit waddup


	3. My Dream's a Meme

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hanamaki finally meets his dream man. 
> 
> Contains teens, memes, and a kinda gay scene (and Oikawa Tooru)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My tags promise Matsuhana, so here is the start  
> of something new  
> it feels so right  
> to be here with you, oh ohhhhh~
> 
> Yaku is not in this chapter because one cannot simply work every day of the week. I am sorry, I miss him too

“Makki.”

“…” Hanamaki squinted his eyes as he adjusted his grip on the frothing pitcher.

“Makki.”

“…” Hanamaki stuck out his tongue as he skillfully finished his masterpiece.

“Maaaakkkkkiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii~”

“Shh…silence is a necessary component for my art,” Hanamaki scrunched his eyebrows in concentration. Oikawa was leaning over his register with his arms dangling over the counter.

“I don’t need art, I just need a latte,” Oikawa whined. “I have to do my homework after this shift, and it’s already 9:50 pm!”

Hanamaki ignored his friend’s protests (very true, very relevant protests. With all the work Hanamaki had to do for the next day, he probably wasn’t getting any sleep tonight. Rest in pepperonis) as he put the finishing touches on the latte’s foam. The two of them and Aone were on shift until 11. They had 10 minutes until closing, and an hour after that to clean the restaurant and prepare everything for the next day. Since no one had ordered food in half an hour, Aone was in the back getting a head start at closing, but Hanamaki and Oikawa had to stay at their counters in case anyone came through last minute. Which, if anyone did, Oikawa would probably strangle them. They were both very, very done for the day.

“Voilà!” He exclaimed as he lifted his frothing pitcher away from the cup.

“Finally~” Oikawa sighed as he walked to the café counter to take his latte. He looked at the cup and froze.

“Really, Makki?”

“Whaddaya think?” Hanamaki asked. “I think it will be real popular with my fans.”

“If by fans you mean the old ladies that like your pink hair, then no, I don’t think they’ll like this.”

“Wow, rude,” Hanamaki replied, placing a hand to his heart. “I’m wounded. What’s there to not like?”

“Really?”

“What?”

“Makki.”

“Whaaaaat?” 

“You drew Dickbutt.”

Oikawa looked at him pointedly with an eyebrow raised. Hanamaki’s serious expression remained unmoving.

“Exactly. He’s a likeable guy, a real masterpiece.”

Oikawa let out a slightly frustrated groan.

“Can’t you draw cute things? We _are_ called “Neko Nibbles,” why not draw cats or paw prints or something?” Oikawa suggested.

“How basic of you, Hanger-chan.”

“Don’t call me that!” Oikawa complained. “That was supposed to die in high school!”

“But memes are eternal.”

“Ugh, okay, whatever. Back to this,” Oikawa said as he motioned to the cup in front of him. “I think you should try drawing cuter things. It will attract more customers!”

“Cute isn’t in my vocabulary. The only description I need in my life is dank.”

“If you can’t think of anything cute to draw, why don’t you draw me~” Oikawa sang, flashing his signature smile and peace sign.

“But I already did,” Hanamaki replied.

“What! When?? I want to see!” Oikawa exclaimed, excitedly.

“Right there,” Hanamaki deadpanned as he pointed to Oikawa’s cup.

“How mean!” Oikawa whined. “Why is everyone being mean to me today! First Iwa-chan, now y-“ The front entrance bell jingled, cutting Oikawa’s soliloquy off.

“Who the fuck comes in when there’s 10 minutes to close,” Oikawa muttered under his breath. His playful attitude disappeared at the sound of the bell, leaving a scary expression on his face. “Whoever this is, I swear to god I will kill them.”

Both baristas turned to look at the customer who ruined their peaceful night.

But Hanamaki didn’t just get a look at him. Hanamaki stared. Hard. Because the guy walking towards the front of the restaurant was the mystery man who high fived him over two weeks ago.

When Hanamaki met him, he wasn’t able to get a good view because of how busy the restaurant was. Now that he was the only customer, Hanamaki could actually _look_ at him.

And boy, did Hanamaki love what he saw.

He was tall, probably a little taller than Hanamaki, with heavy lidded eyes and tousled black hair. He had thick ( _#thicc lmao_ ran through Hanamaki’s head) eyebrows and defined lips with a prominent upper one, making it seem as though he was pouting a little. He looked disheveled, wearing a loose t-shirt and joggers, but with his arms and his build, Hanamaki could tell he was very fit.

Hanamaki couldn’t lie: dat boi was mighty fine.

“Mattsun, you won’t believe what Makki did to me!”

Hanamaki turned to Oikawa in disbelief. How did Oikawa know him? Hanamaki made a mental note to interrogate him later.

“What’d he do?” The customer (Mattsun?) replied lazily.

“Look at my latte!” Oikawa exclaimed, pointing at the cup sitting at Hanamaki’s station. “Unbelievable. Not only did he give me that, but he said that was _me_. How cruel~”

Mattsun approached Hanamaki’s counter and glanced at the cup Oikawa motioned him towards.

“What the fuck,” he said after seeing the latte. He looked up at Hanamaki with an unreadable expression. Hanamaki prepared himself to defend his work.

“How could you disrespect Dickbutt by comparing him to Oikawa?”

Oikawa gasped. Hanamaki internally swooned.

“I meant it as a compliment, but clearly Oikawa doesn’t understand the beauty and complexity of the art in front of him,” Hanamaki replied. “He said our customers wouldn’t like this.”

“Wow, Oikawa, you uncultured swine, how could you say that?” The customer said, turning to raise an eyebrow at the other barista. Oikawa began to protest but he cut him off. “I, for one, would be honored to receive a masterpiece like this.”

“Hearing that makes me happier than the dancing hotdog,” Hanamaki replied.

“Incredible.”

“Haaaattteee to interrupt,” Oikawa cut in, “but we have 5 minutes to close, so please order already so Makki and I don’t have to stay longer than necessary.”

“I guess Hanger-chan has a point,” Hanamaki sighed. “What can I get you?”

“Brother, may I have some oats?” The customer asked. Oikawa threw his hands up in the air and walked into the kitchen.

“Sorry brother, there are not enough rations for sharing,” Hanamaki responded.

“You may have duped me last time brother, but today I will not fall for your lies.”

“Actually, last time, you high fived me for a well done roast.”

“Oh fuck, you’re right,” The customer replied, eyes widening. “I can’t believe I almost forgot that. I tell that story to everyone. That was one strong roast, my dude.”

“Thanks, my dude. Strong roast like your coffee, amirite?” Hanamaki smiled. “I’ll go get that for you.”

“Yoooo I can’t believe you remembered,” he said. “I’m Matsukawa by the way. Matsukawa Issei.”

“Hanamaki Takahiro, resident meme,” Hanamaki responded as he filled a large to-go cup with strong, black coffee.

“I don’t get why you like this shit. It’s so bitter,” Hanamaki said as he glanced over at Matsukawa.

“I’m quite fond of bitter things,” Matsukawa replied, winking. Hanamaki grinned and turned back to the coffee cup he was now drawing on.

“I like bitter things too, but I like it better when the cream goes in,” Hanamaki winked as he handed the coffee to Matsukawa.

“Damn, you got me,” Matsukawa laughed.

“So why the strong coffee so late at night?” Hanamaki asked. Matsukawa sighed.

“I’ve got a lot of work to do.”

“Ayyyyy same. Suffering buddies,” Hanamaki replied as he poured a cup of coffee for himself.

“What school do you go to?” Matsukawa asked.

“The same as Oikawa and everyone else here,” Hanamaki said as he put cream and sugar in his cup.

“What the fuck. Same,” Matsukawa said. Hanamaki stopped what he was doing and stared.

“You’re shitting me. What do you study?”

“Biomedical engineering,” Matsukawa replied.

“What the fuck bro, we’re both engineers?” Hanamaki asked, bewildered. “I’m studying electrical engineering.”

“What year?”

“Second year.”

“What. The. Fuck. Same.”

Both boys stood silent, staring at each other in disbelief.

“Same year, same field, and same appreciate of memes…” Matsukawa muttered. “That’s three connections…”

“Illuminati confirmed,” they said in unison.

“I can’t believe I just met you,” Hanamaki laughed.

“Same,” Matsukawa said with a smile. “I should probably go back to my homework now, but we should definitely hang out.”

“Yeah, for sure. Text me,” Hanamaki replied.

“I don’t have your number,” Matsukawa said, confused.

“Check yo self.”

Matsukawa patted himself down, checking his pockets. Then he looked at the cup in his hand and burst out laughing. On the cup was a drawing of Dickbutt and a messily written “Call 4 a good meme XOXO” above a phone number.

“Wait, I need to pay for this.”

“Nah, I was going to toss the coffee out anyways, just keep it,” Hanamaki said.

“I can’t just not pay-“

“Pay me with your friendship then,” Hanamaki smirked.

“Nah, you get that free of charge,” Matsukawa winked back. Hanamaki internally swooned again. “If you’re sure it’s alright, I’ll just take this I guess.”

“Seeya, Matsukawa,” Hanamaki waved.

“Seeya. I’ll text you,” Matsukawa waved back, then turned and walked out the restaurant. Hanamaki watched him walk away, admiring his ass. As soon as the door closed, he let out a sigh.

“Oooo, Makki, got a cruuuush~?”

“Yes, yes I do,” Hanamaki replied. “So tell me, how have you not introduced me to your friend?”

“You mean Mattsun?” Oikawa asked. “I know him through Iwa-chan, but we’re not that close.”

“But you know him.”

“Duh, Makki,” Oikawa responded. “Can’t you tell from the nickname?”

“You know the man I’ve been thirsting after for the past two weeks and you didn’t tell me.”

“WAIT,” Oikawa’s eyes widened. “MATTSUN is the customer you’ve been looking for?? The one who, what did you say, ‘captured your heart with a singled high five’?”

“Yes. How could you not know? What a fake friend.”

“How was I supposed to know?” Oikawa complained. “All you told me was he was tall, dark, and mysterious. That’s so vague!” 

“True friends just know,” Hanamaki responded.

“Ok, sounds fake but ok,” Oikawa replied.

“Ah, yes, you’re catching on.”

“Come on, Makki, you know I like memes, too. It’s just that no one likes them as much as you.”

“Except Matsukawa. Wow, what a guy,” Hanamaki said, smiling as he played their conversation through his head again.

“Wow, take your gay elsewhere.”

“Oikawa, you’re literally the gayest man I know.”

“You know Kuroo though." 

“Oikawa, you’re literally the second gayest man I know.”

“Well, I can’t argue with that,” Oikawa laughed. “Now let’s start closing so we don’t have to stay up all night doing work.”

They finished their closing shift duties and managed to get out of work 10 minutes early. When Hanamaki finally got back home, his phone vibrated twice.

“Thanks to you, I can be as turnt as hotdog man while on that homework grind.”

The text was followed by a picture of the dancing hotdog next to the coffee cup he drew Dickbutt on. Hanamaki laughed as he typed out a response. He’d been searching for his mystery man for a long time, but he didn’t think Matsukawa would be this perfect.

 _Maybe,_ Hanamaki thought to himself, _just maybe, customer service isn’t that bad._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anyone who doesn't know [ the story of Hanger-chan ](http://hajimeiwaizumi.tumblr.com/post/85163339082)
> 
> For anyone who hasn't seen [ "Brother, May I have Some Oats?" ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GUlrCvCAX8w)
> 
> Also, the comment about Kuroo being the gayest is a reference to [Open Tab](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8597737/chapters/19717108), fantastic fic that is still ongoing!!! (though tbh Kuroo is definitely the gayest, no question)  
> thanks for reading, comments are appreciated!! (again, esp if i have grammar errors or something bc tfw no editor)


	4. He’s 17 but one tall Fiend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Aaaaaaaaanyways,” Kuroo interrupted. “Bottom line is: school is hard, capitalism sucks, Oikawa is inhuman, and do you want to come to Bokuto’s party?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> making my way downtown  
> writing fast, responsibilities pass  
> and im college bound  
> do doo doo doo doo doo doo do  
> do doo doo doo doo doo doo do
> 
> sorry (or not sorry? not sure which to be) another update, but i am avoiding doing real work ((((((:

“So let me get this straight,” Yaku said, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

“Gay, not straight,” Kuroo chimed in. He snapped finger guns at Hanamaki and Hanamaki returned the favor.

“Fine, let me get this _gay_ ,” Yaku corrected. “Your mystery man-“

“Matsukawa,” Hanamaki interrupted.

“ _Matsukawa_ came in this Monday, you gave him your number, and you’ve been communicating every day since… _solely through memes??_ ”

“Yes, that is correct,” Hanamaki replied.

“So…have you learned anything about him?” Yaku asked.

“I know his name.”

“No shit you do.”

“I know he’s an engineer, he’s my age, he likes his coffee black, and is a connoisseur of memes,” Hanamaki listed off.

“Okay, but you learned all of that in the ten minutes you spoke to him. Have you said anything substantial through text?” Yaku asked.

“Memes are substantial,” Hanamaki defended. Yaku looked to Kuroo for support.

“I get what you’re saying Yakkun, but the boy’s got a point,” Kuroo smirked.

“Yeah, Yaks, you can learn a lot about a person through their taste in memes,” Hanamaki added.

“Maybe I’m wrong,” Yaku started, “but I feel like you should try to get to know him better.”

“And how do you suggest I do that?” Hanamaki asked.

“You’re both engineers in the same year, right? I’m sure you have a class in common. You can see if he wants to meet up to do homework together or something.”

“Wait, that’s actually really smart,” Hanamaki responded.

“Did you think I would give you half-assed advice?” Yaku asked, appalled.

“I mean, whenever I ask Kuroo for advice he sends me weird YouTube videos.”

“Weird? I’m offended,” Kuroo said.

“You sent me a ‘good video to think to’ that was literally the Windows XP Startup sound slowed down to twenty-four hours.”

“You know you loved it though.”

“You’re right, I did love it,” Hanamaki said, breaking into a grin.

“ _I’m_ offended that you would compare me to Kuroo,” Yaku interjected.

“Wow Yaku, rude,” Kuroo replied. “Why is everyone targeting me? I came out to have a good time and honestly I’m feeling so attacked right now.”

“Are we attacking Kuroo right now?” A quiet voice interrupted. Hanamaki jumped. Once again, Lev and Kenma managed to enter the restaurant and walk to the registers without anyone noticing.

“JESUS Kenma, how do you always come in so quietly?” Hanamaki asked, still slightly frazzled from the unexpected voice behind them.

“You get used to it after a while,” Yaku laughed.

“I’m not that quiet…” Kenma mumbled. “You guys are just really loud.”

“Kenma sneaking in here isn’t surprising, but I can’t believe we never notice _Lev_ ,” Kuroo commented.

“True,” Hanamaki responded. “He’s tall, loud, and sticks out like a sore thumb.”

“In a good way,” Hanamaki added after seeing Lev react to his previous statement.

“I’m not loud!” Lev exclaimed.

“Shouting you’re not loud is counterproductive,” Kenma muttered as he covered his ear closest to Lev.

“But really, you’re usually so loud, but you’re quiet when you enter the café,” Kuroo noted.

“That’s because I like hearing you guys talk!”

“What?” Yaku raised an eyebrow as he stared at Lev. Lev’s face reddened slightly.

“I mean, you guys are all really close and are always having such a good time. It’s fun to listen to.”

“That’s…kind of sweet,” Hanamaki commented.

“You’re a really straightforward guy, aren’t you?” Kuroo laughed.

“People say that to me a lot, so I guess I am,” Lev shrugged.

“But hey, you’ve been here what now, three times?” Hanamaki asked. Lev nodded. “And you’re friends with Kenma, so you’re not a stranger. You don’t have to listen, you can join in if you want.”

“Wait, really??” Lev asked, excitedly. He looked at Hanamaki intently, and Hanamaki nodded. Lev shifted his gaze to Kuroo.

“A friend of Kenma is a friend of mine,” Kuroo said, giving a thumbs up. Then, Lev turned his head to Yaku. He had a serious, almost pleading look on his face.

“Y-you said you wanted to get to know me,” Yaku stuttered, face turning a little red. “How can you do that if you act like a stranger?”

As the words left Yaku’s mouth, Lev’s face broke out into a blinding grin.

“I do want to get to know you! I can’t believe I even got Yaku-san’s approval!” Lev exclaimed.

“Why is that so unbelievable?” Yaku asked in frustration. Yeah, frustration. Definitely. That’s why his face was so hot.

“Because I always make you mad,” Lev pouted. His face pissed Yaku off. How could he go from so blindingly happy so sad in less than a second? The smile suited him better.

“I’m not _really_ mad, I’m just-“

“Kenma said you get mad when people call you short,” Lev interrupted.

“Because it’s rude!” Yaku shot back.

“So you _were_ mad?” Lev asked. Yaku let out a frustrated noise.

“Okay, yes, I was mad, but that doesn’t mean I hate you or anything. Just don’t be an asshole.”

The smile that fled from Lev’s face came back, brighter than ever. Yaku glared and looked down to avoid staring directly at him. That would be dangerous.

“I’m glad you don’t hate me! I’ll avoid pointing out your shortness in the future!”

Yaku felt his face twitch, but he decided to let the comment go.

“To answer your question from earlier, Kenma,” Hanamaki interrupted, “yes, we were attacking Kuroo. Do you have any dirt for us?”

“Man, I thought we were past this,” Kuroo complained.

“Nah, you’re still on the hot seat.”

“Welcome to Neko Sniffles, where our specialties are roasts and pain.”

“I do have a lot of dirt,” Kenma chimed in. Kuroo gasped.

“Kenma, you’d really betray me like that?” Kuroo questioned dramatically.

“For free coffee, maybe.”

“One coffee, coming up!” Hanamaki responded. “Now, tell us something about our precious Tetsu-chan.”

“Please don’t make it anything too bad,” Kuroo begged.

“Two years ago, Kuroo went through a Love Live addiction. He can still sing every song by heart,” Kenma supplied as Hanamaki handed him a cup of coffee.

“Kenma, how could you do this to me.”

Kenma smiled into his coffee cup, refraining from commenting.

“You’re shitting me, right?” Hanamaki asked in genuine disbelief.

“No, I’m not,” Kenma replied.

“Kuroo, sing for us,” Yaku commanded.

“No. No way. I refuse.”

“Pleasssseeeee?” Hanamaki pleaded.

“I’d either have to be delirious, drunk out of my mind, or under Bo’s influence to do it.”

“How about all three?”

“What do you-“ Kuroo started, but cut himself off midsentence. His eyes widened and he broke out into a grin. “Oh shit, Bo’s party’s tonight, I totally forgot!”

“Bo?” Lev asked, confused.

“Do you know Bokuto Koutarou?” Yaku said.

“By Bokuto Koutarou do you mean _the_ Bokuto Koutarou, the amazing wing spiker who people say has the potential to make nationals??”

“Yep, that’s the one,” Yaku replied. “His birthday was this week, so he’s throwing a huge birthday bash in his apartment tonight.”

“You guys are friends with him?? That’s so cool!!” Lev practically shouted.

“Woah there kid, calm down,” Kuroo laughed. “Yeah, we’re friends. We’ve been playing against him in volleyball for years. By the way, you can come to the party if you want.”

“Really?!” Lev exclaimed. “Wait, you guys play volleyball??”

“Played, yeah,” Hanamaki responded. “We still play club volleyball when we have time, but we’re not really competitive anymore.”

“You do realize that Kuroo was Nekoma’s captain the year before me, right?” Kenma interjected. Lev’s eyes widened.

“Wait, you’re _that_ Kuroo??” Lev asked (shouted), bewildered.

“The one and only.”

“Man, I wish I joined the team a year earlier!” Lev moaned.

“Wait, did you play for Nekoma?” Yaku asked, confused.

“I play for Nekoma, yeah.”

“Wait…play like the present tense? As in you _currently play for Nekoma_?”

“Yeah, I currently play for Nekoma!”

Lev’s statement was followed by a wave of silence. Kuroo’s face was frozen, mouth agape and eyebrows twisted upwards. Hanamaki’s eyes were narrowed, as though scrutinizing the kid. Yaku’s was blank, void of all emotion. All three stared at Lev, making him squirm uncomfortably.

“How…” Yaku started, breaking the silence. “How old are you?”

“I’m seventeen, why?” Lev squeaked, nervous at the change in atmosphere.

“SEVENTEEN???” All three employees shouted simultaneously.

“You’re lying, right?” Kuroo asked.

“No! I’m not a liar,” Lev pouted.

“There’s no way. You’re like, at least 6’6,” Hanamaki remarked.

“Last I checked, I was closer to 6’8.”

“Jesus Christ,” Yaku muttered. “You’re a fucking skyscraper.”

“Is he really seventeen?” Hanamaki asked Kenma. Kenma nodded.

“Yeah, he’s a third year at Nekoma.”

“What position do you play?” Kuroo asked. Upon hearing Kuroo’s question, Lev’s usual childish expressions were replaced with a confident grin and serious, determined eyes. It was a look Yaku had never seen on him before, and though it was far different from the expressions Yaku was used to seeing, it suited him well.

“I’m the ace!” He announced proudly. Kuroo raised his eyebrows and smirked.

“Oho ho ho?”

“Is he actually good?” Yaku asked Kenma, tearing his eyes away from Lev’s face. He heard the skyscraper protest, but he ignored it in favor of listening to his old setter.

“He’s a good spiker, and he’s really fast, but his receives still suck,” Kenma replied.

“They don’t suck!” Lev argued.

“Has Shibayama been working with you to improve your receives? Defense is vital to the team, don’t break the flow,” Yaku scolded Lev.

“Yeah, Shibayama works with me a-“ Lev started, but stopped abruptly and widened his eyes. “Wait, how do you know Shibayama?”

“I played on Nekoma, too.”

Lev stared at him, clearly not comprehending his words.

“I was a regular all three years with Kuroo?”

Lev’s face was still blank.

“In my third year I trained Shibayama.”

“Oh! So you were a libero!” Lev finally reacted, breaking out into a smile.

“What’s _that_ supposed to mean?” Yaku glared.

“I didn’t realize you played, too!”

“Kuroo said _we_.”

“I know, but you don’t _look_ like a volleyball player, Yaku-san!”

Yaku reached over the counter and jabbed him in the gut, making Lev bend over in pain.

“Jeez Yaks, don’t hit customers,” Hanamaki said.

“He’s not a customer, he’s a friend now,” Yaku replied. “Friends can hit each other.”

Lev looked up at Yaku with an attempted smile, though his face was contorted from pain. Maybe Yaku hit him a little too hard. Maybe.

“Yakkun is one of the best liberos in the country, beanpole. Remember that,” Kuroo smirked. Lev looked at Kuroo, then Yaku, with huge, excited eyes.

“Yaku-san, will you help me with receives?!” He asked. “And Kuroo-san, will you help me with blocks?!”

“’Hanamaki-san, will you help me with spikes?’” Hanamaki imitated. “Of course, you beanpole! Glad you asked!”

“Hanamaki-san, were you the ace of your team?” Lev practically shouted.

“Wing spiker,” he replied. “For Seijou.”  

“You guys are all so cool!” Lev exclaimed. “Why don’t you play for your school?”

At that question, all three of their smiles sank.

“Playing a sport in college is a full-time job,” Yaku explained. “All three of us were scouted, and I’m not sure about them, but even with athletic scholarships, it would have been tough.”

“Also, none of us would have been able to major in what we wanted,” Kuroo added.

“Why?” Lev asked, confused.

“I’m an engineer, Kuroo is a chemist, and Yaku is pre-med,” Hanamaki said. “Athletes are discouraged from pursuing science degrees because labs are long and usually in the afternoon, which interfere with practices and matches.”

“And the amount of work you have to squeeze in between practices is brutal,” Yaku supplemented.

“Yeah, just look at Oikawa. That masochist,” Hanamaki threw in.

“Is Oikawa doing science, too?” Lev asked.

“No, but he’s doubling in economics and literature, is pre-law, works part-time here AND is playing volleyball,” Hanamaki sighed.

“He’s crazy,” Kenma commented.

“He’s Oikawa,” Yaku smirked.

“Aaaaaaaaanyways,” Kuroo interrupted. “Bottom line is: school is hard, capitalism sucks, Oikawa is inhuman, and do you want to come to Bokuto’s party?”

“Yes!” Lev replied.

“Kuroo, don’t you think it’s irresponsible to bring a high schooler to a college party?” Yaku said.  

“It’ll be _fine_. I’m the most responsible guy I know.”

“Responsible, huh?” Yaku asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes. Responsible.”

“Remind me, why can’t you and Bokuto work the same shift?”

Kuroo pursed his lips in silence.

“Just saying, that fire was all Bo’s fault.”

“No it wasn’t,” Kenma retorted. “I should tutor Lev now.”

“But Kenmmmaaaaaaa,” Lev whined. “We’re having fun!”

“Have fun on your own time, we’re working now,” Kenma replied, looking slightly irritated. Yaku wasn’t sure how Kenma could stand the kid; they were polar opposites, “like oil and water” as Kuroo once said. Nevertheless, they were somehow friends.

“What are you being tutored in?” Yaku asked Lev.

“Uhhhhh,” Lev started, rubbing his head. “Mainly math, but also science, and a bit of literature and English.”

“Basically everything,” Kenma said. Lev didn’t even retort, he just laughed sheepishly and looked away.

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of,” Yaku commented. “The fact you’re putting in the extra effort and getting tutored shows you’re trying your best. Good luck!”

Lev stared at him for a moment with an unreadable expression. It didn’t last long though – his cheeks reddened and his inhumanly bright smile broke through.

“Thanks, Yaku-san!”

After that, Lev and Kenma ordered, paid, and received their food. More customers trickled in, leaving the three busy for an hour or so.

“Looking forward to tonight?” Kuroo asked Yaku once business died down.

“If you’re referring to Bokuto’s party, I don’t think I can go,” Yaku replied. “I have a lot of work to do.”

“C’mon, Yakkun, have a little fun! Just drop by for a little bit. Pleaseeeeeee?”

“Maybe,” Yaku sighed. “Hey, Hanamaki.”

“Yeah?” Hanamaki replied lazily.

“Why don’t you invite Matsukawa?”

Yaku was answered with silence. He watched as Hanamaki processed the question thrown at him.

“I love you,” Hanamaki finally responded, then took out his phone and began texting.

“Okay, now you _have_ to go,” Kuroo said.

“Why?”

“Because 1. I really want to meet Hanamaki’s mystery man and I know you do, too, 2. Hanamaki can use a life coach nearby, and 3. Mother Yaku needs to be present for all of his children, old and new.”

“New?”

“Yeah, the beanpole,” Kuroo replied.

“Oh, right,” Yaku sighed. “Kuroo, I really don’t think this is a good idea.”

“Everything will be fine, Yaku, don’t worry about it,” Kuroo said with his signature smirk. “Everything will be fine.”

Yaku looked out into the lobby of their restaurant and saw Lev accidentally squirt the lemon from his water into his eye.

No, Yaku decided. Everything would not be fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [The windows video](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qL7I9BWFqdk&t=43000s) (I've gotten 6 hours into this ngl)
> 
> Lev’s height is his height from his first year + a number taken from the average range boys grow in high school
> 
> I was never intending on writing a chapter outside of the cafe (at least not this early on), but Kuroo changed my plans. Thanks Kuroo. 
> 
> ALSO for anyone who is confused by/curious about the timeline: Chapter 1, 2, and 4 take place on 3 consecutive Saturdays in September. Chapter 3 is on the Monday in between chapter 2 and 4. Bokuto's birthday is September 20 :) (and lev's birthday is October 30, so in case anyone was worried, no, nothing underaged is going to happen. I am not for that shit)


	5. Life’s a Party unless you’re the Sober Buddy™

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They go to a party, and Yaku has to watch over them all.
> 
> (Note: there will be no underage sexual engagements or anything between Yaku and Lev, nor any kind of noncon. Pls be reassured ty)

Yaku bent over his desk, hands tangled in his hair as he glared down at the theorems scribbled on his notebook. He was on the last question of his math problem set, and, per usual, the last was the hardest. After a few minutes of racking his brain for solutions, Yaku sighed and glanced at his phone to check the time. It was 10:45; Neko Nibbles’ business was slow towards the end of the night, so the three employees were able to get out at exactly 10:00pm. Underneath the time, Yaku noticed he was bombarded with snapchat notifications from Hanamaki, some timestamped from 30 minutes prior. Curious as to what Hanamaki had to urgently say (or rather, snap) after being apart for 15 minutes, Yaku left his homework aside and opened the messages. 

The first snap was a weirdly-angled, blurry picture of Hanamaki’s face, captioned “MATSUKAWA IS COMING TO THE PARTY.” It was followed by a picture of the night sky, captioned “Currently praising God I mean Yaku.”  The next photo, a picture of Hanamaki’s apartment door, was from 5 minutes later. Beneath the door handle lay the caption “Wait. Matsukawa is going to be there tonight.” This snap was then followed by a series of selfies from strange angles, where Hanamaki’s eyebrows were knit together. The last four of the series had the captions “what.” “do.” “I.” “WEAR.”

Yaku took a quick break from Hanamaki’s snaps to laugh. For all the witty comebacks his pink-haired friend had within him, he was pretty awkward when it came to normal interactions with people he didn’t know well, especially when the person was his crush. He was a naturally observant person, but when he tried too hard to get along with others, he would often observe too much and not interact enough. Yaku still remembered when he and Kuroo first met Hanamaki. The three were assigned a shift together (the beginning of their weekly Saturday shift), and it was clear that Kuroo and Yaku were already close. It took Hanamaki _weeks_ to warm up to them, and the catalyst was Kuroo asking Yaku if he planned on joining their college’s volleyball club (“You guys play volleyball, too? What positions?” came tumbling out of Hanamaki’s mouth, the first non-work related conversation he ever initiated). Since then, the three had grown pretty close, and Yaku was glad to have him as one of his closest friends. Sure, he loved annoying him (thankfully not as much as he liked annoying Oikawa), goofed off too often at work, and got into crazy shenanigans with Kuroo, but Hanamaki was a funny and extremely loyal friend that Yaku knew he can count on.

Yaku pulled himself out of his memories and continued to open Hanamaki’s snaps. The first he opened was the first normally-angled selfie, featuring an expressionless face, captioned “I feel like you’re laughing at me. In my TIME OF NEED.” Yaku sniggered, but broke out laughing again when he opened the next snap. It was a full-sized hotdog costume, captioned “I was planning on wearing this but now idk if a hotdog is sexy enough to seduce my man.” The following snaps were mirror selfies in different outfits, ranging from khakis and button ups to sandals with graphic tees. Yaku scrunched his nose; he wasn’t really a fan of any of them. The last snap, which Yaku received less than a minute ago, was a close up of Hanamaki’s eyes captioned “pls respond tnx.”

Yaku opened up the chat feature and typed out “How about you take the denim button up from pic 1, but leave it open and roll up the sleeves. Wear your white shirt from pic 4 underneath, black pants, and your white sneakers.” Hanamaki read his message in seconds, and two minutes later snapped a photo of him in Yaku’s suggestion throwing a peace sign, captioned “thanks mom.” Yaku snapped a picture of his face back, captioned “you’re welcome.” His snap was opened immediately, then followed by a text message.

**From: Hanamaki**

I c u yaks…ive snapped u enough times 2 recognize ur desk lamp lighting

\+ ur still in ur work clothes

get ur ass outta ur chair + get redy 2 party

 

**To: Hanamaki**

I’ll go later. Also, why are you texting like that

 

**From: Hanamaki**

Unacceptable

cuz im preparin myself + embracin my inner Oikawa

 

**To: Hanamaki**

I have work I need to finish. I’ll go afterwards

Also, there’s enough extra-ness in this world with one Oikawa. Please don’t make living worse

 

**From: Hanamaki**

Yaks we r in college

Prime time to make bad decisions + regret it the next day

Pls

 

**To: Hanamaki**

This isn’t how I raised you

 

**From: Hanamaki**

So u admit that ur my mom

 

**To: Hanamaki**

No

I just have 1 problem left, I’ll go after I promise

 

**From: Hanamaki**

Ok,,,…sounds fake but ok,,…

U better swing thru

 

**To: Hanamaki**

Ok, ok I will

 

Yaku put his phone down and began working. After tuning out his distractions and thinking for what seemed like hours, he finished his last problem, threw on a pair of jeans and a black t-shirt, and checked the time. It was 11:30; the party had started at 11, so he couldn’t have missed that much. Luckily, Bokuto’s apartment was nearby, so he didn’t have to walk for long before being welcomed by the blasting music and loud chatter that were quintessential to events like these. 

“HEY HEY HEY!” Yaku heard moments after walking through the door. “IT’S YAKKUN!!”

“Happy Birthday, Bokuto!” he shouted into the crowd in front of him, unable to locate the intended recipient of his greeting. Instead of receiving a reply, two strong arms came out of nowhere and draped themselves over Yaku’s shoulders.

“Thanks!!” Bokuto said loudly, right next to his ear. Yaku winced at the volume, but refrained himself from scolding the birthday boy. “Kuroo said you were busy tonight and wasn’t sure if you’d come. I’m glad you made it!”

“How could I miss your special day?” Yaku grinned, eliciting a wide smile from the ace. “Also, I need to look out for a couple of idiots who’ll be here tonight.”

“Mamasuke at it again!” Bokuto laughed. “Does that mean you won’t be drinking tonight?”

“Nah,” Yaku replied. “Someone needs to be able to remember it all.”

“Excuse you, I’ll have you know I remember everything I’ve ever done ever, regardless of what state I’m in,” came a loud, all too familiar voice from Yaku’s right.

“Oho ho?” Bokuto called out, shooting upright as he honed in on the location of his friend.

“Oho ho ho,” Kuroo smirked as he finally pushed his way through the crowd to them, red solo cup in hand.

“That’s bullshit and you know it,” Yaku retorted. “How many have you had?”

 “Not enough.”

“Alcoholic.” 

“Teetotaler.”

“Rooster head.” 

“Shrimp.”

“Meet me in the fucking pit,” Yaku spat, earning a laugh from Kuroo.

“If you’re gonna fight me, you should fight Lev first, considering how many times he’s called you short in the past three weeks.”

 “Who’s Lev?” Bokuto asked, interrupting their dispute.

“Remember that beanpole customer I was telling you about?” Kuroo asked back. Bokuto paused to think for a moment, then let out a noise of recognition.

“The one who’s been annoying Yakkun every Saturday?”

Kuroo smirked. “Yep, that’s the one.”

“I need to meet him!”

“What? Why?” Yaku questioned.

“I need to know your opponent before placing bets.”

Kuroo swung his arm around Bokuto’s shoulders. “Well, Bo, you’re in luck, because I invited him to your party.”

Bokuto’s eyes widened. “NO WAY!!! Really?? Is he coming??”

“Yep,” Kuroo replied, popping the p. “He’s coming with Kenma.”

“Great, one more person to take care of,” Yaku sighed. “You better not give him any alcohol, Kuroo.”

“Why?”

Yaku gave him a pointed stare. “Because he’s still in high school?”

Kuroo shrugged. “He’s a third year. A year away from college. We started doing shit like this at 17.”

“Okay, but we were all high schoolers fucking around. You invited him to a _college party_. What if he, like, feels pressured? Or obligated? Or-“

“Awwwwwww,” Bokuto cooed. “He’s taken on another duckling~”

“I’m still his favorite though,” Kuroo announced.

“With that hair, I’d say you’re the ugly duckling,” came a fourth voice, entering the conversation.

Kuroo didn’t have to see the speaker to know who it was. “Speak for yourself, Makki.”

Yaku turned his head and saw Hanamaki dressed as he suggested, cup in hand with a confident smirk on his face.

“My hair is beautiful, thank you very much. Just ask any of the old ladies at the restaurant.”

“Yeah, Hanamaki’s hair is super cool!” Bokuto shouted. “I have to dye mine, but his is natural. Unfair!”

“Yeah, sometimes I wish I had an eraser cap on my head, too,” Kuroo quipped as he stuck out his tongue in Hanamaki’s direction. “I have to say though, you look good tonight.” He blinked a few times, feigning ignorance. “Why’s that?”

“A compliment? From Kuroo?” Hanamaki mocked shock.

“I’m always this kind.”

“Sure, Jan,” Hanamaki delivered with a practiced eye roll.

“Is Matsukawa not here yet?” Yaku asked, diverting the conversation from their playful banter. Hanamaki smiled sheepishly and ran his hand through his hair.

“No…not yet. I’ve just been fucking around for the past 45 minutes. Are…are you sure I look okay?”

“First you insinuate that I’m mean, and then you don’t believe my word?” Kuroo gasped dramatically. “I refuse to be insulted like this.”

Bokuto laughed. “Kuroo’s right, bro. You look great!”

“Chill out, Hanamaki,” Yaku reprimanded. “You’ll be fine.”

“Okay, okay,” Hanamaki said, letting out a sigh of relief. “Thanks guys, I’m feeling a little be-“ He paused mid-sentence when he saw Matsukawa walk into the room. His three companions followed his gaze.

“Is that him??” Bokuto asked a little too loudly, making Hanamaki flinch.

“Yeah.” 

Matsukawa stood at the doorway, looking around as if he was searching for something. Kuroo whistled. Yaku jabbed him, then turned to Hanamaki with a smile.

“I think he’s looking for you. Don’t keep him waiting.”

Hanamaki looked at Matsukawa, then at his three friends, who stared at him expectantly. In one fluid motion, he brought his cup to his lips and chugged the rest of his punch down. He crumped his cup, threw it to the side, and took a deep breath.

“Ok, here I go.”

Yaku watched Hanamaki as he walked off, feigning confidence, and felt something akin to pride twinge in his heart.

“And to my left, you’ll see a mother duck sending her baby off. A bittersweet goodbye,” Kuroo commentated as Bokuto pretended to scribble down notes.

“Shut up,” Yaku grumbled, though he could feel the corners of his mouth twitch upward. The three of them watched as Hanamaki and Matsukawa disappeared into the crowd, laughing.

“They grow up so fast,” Bokuto sniffled. Yaku shoved him lightly.

“I said shut up.” He paused and ran his hand through his hair. “But yeah, yeah they do.”

Kuroo swung his arm around Yaku. “Don’t worry, Yakkun, you still have me~”

“Kuroo, get off-“

“And your newest kid-“

“I don’t know what you’re talking about-“

Yaku twisted and shoved, trying to push Kuroo away from him, but to no avail. Bokuto, feeling left out, decided to throw himself into the mix, leaving Yaku tangled between his two tall, strong friends. Their mini-skirmish was interrupted, however, by the sound of Bokuto’s front door hitting the wall.

“I didn’t mean to push that hard, I’m sorry!!” whined the newcomer. Kuroo revealed his signature sly grin.

“Speak of the devil.”

 Bokuto blinked in confusion. “No one mentioned Oikawa though.”

Yaku tuned out his friends’ banter as he turned to catch a glimpse of the source of ruckus at the front door. The all too familiar figure towered over the crowd in front of him. His head was tilted down but his eyebrows twisted upwards – he seemed to be apologizing to someone next to him (probably Kenma, Yaku thought.) Yaku’s eyes started drifting down from the boy’s face and was overcome by a fit of laughter.

“ _Oh my god,_ ” he choked out, grabbing the attention of his two companions. “ _What is he wearing?”_

Yaku was used to seeing Lev’s atrocious outfits every Saturday, but his getup today took the cake for the worst clothing combination Yaku had ever seen. He was wearing a short-sleeved, galaxy-printed collared shirt covered in pictures of cat faces. It was unbuttoned, revealing a bright orange shirt that had “COLLEGE” printed in white lettering underneath. His shorts were _also_ orange, but a slightly darker shade and checkered, emphasizing how mismatched the outfit was. On his feet he wore long, blue socks and sandals. He also had a pair of sunglasses on his head even though it was nighttime.

“That’s one loud outfit,” Bokuto commented. Kuroo squinted his eyes at his top.

“Are those cats? I want it.”

“My eyes feel assaulted,” Yaku wheezed. As he tried to stop laughing and collect himself, he made direct eye contact with Lev from across the room. The taller boy’s eyes lit up, and he immediately began pushing his way through the people around him.

“Yaku-san!!”

Trailing behind Lev was Kenma, looking both amused and irritated. Lev wormed his way closer, but stopped in his tracks when he laid eyes on the ace at Yaku’s side.

“Are you Bokuto?!?” He asked loudly. Bokuto straightened up.

“That’s me!”

“Happy birthday!” he shouted. “Wow, I can’t believe I get to meet you in real life! One of the best aces in Japan!” Bokuto preened at his comments.

Kuroo laughed. “His ego is big enough, please don’t inflate it.”

Bokuto ignored Kuroo’s comment and grinned at Lev. “You’re Lev, right? Nice to meet you!”

Lev’s eyes practically sparkled when he heard his name. “Yeah! How do you know me?”

“Kuroo’s been telling me about how you’ve been taken under Mamasuke’s wing!” Bokuto exclaimed. The taller boy raised his eyebrows, confused. Yaku sighed.

“Please stop calling me that, I’m _not_ a mom. Also, Lev, _what_ are you _wearing_?”

Lev tilted his head. “Clothes?”

“Are you sure about that?”

“What does that mean?”

“It means _what is your outfit?”_

“Isn’t this what college kids wear to parties??” He asked. Yaku squinted at him, trying to spot any signs of sarcasm, as he was used to his friends fucking with him. What he saw, however, was 100% genuine. He wasn’t sure _how_ it could be genuine, because who the fuck would wear something like that (or _buy_ any of the articles of clothing he was wearing for that matter), but it was. Yaku heard Kuroo lose his composure as he tried to stifle giggles.

“No, it’s really not,” Kenma murmured from his spot next to Kuroo, pushing the latter over the edge into a fit of laughter.

Lev pouted. “Wait, really?”

Bokuto threw an arm around Lev. “Don’t listen to the haters! I think your shirt is super cool!”

The taller boy’s face lit up. “Really??!”

“Yeah! Now lemme show you around, it’ll be great!”

Yaku raised his eyebrows in concern as he stared at the pair. “You better keep him safe.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Bokuto responded flippantly as he guided Lev away from the group. Lev looked over his shoulder back at Yaku.

“I’ll be fine, Yaku-san!”

And with that, the two wandered off, leaving Yaku, Kuroo, and Kenma behind.

“I doubt it,” Kenma said under his breath, making Kuroo giggle more. Kenma raised an eyebrow at his boyfriend, then looked at Yaku. “How much did he drink?”

Yaku sighed. “’Not enough’ is all he said when I asked.”

“M’fine,” Kuroo smiled, attempting to straighten himself up.

“Yaks, Kuroo, Kenma!”

The three turned and spotted their pink haired friend waving them down. Yaku began walking towards him, and as he approached, he noticed a rosy glow on his cheeks. _Guess I really am Sober Buddy™ tonight,_ Yaku thought with a sigh. Kenma and Kuroo followed behind him, the former providing some support for the latter to counteract his occasional stumble. Once they were close enough, Hanamaki stopped waving, dramatically swung his arms around, and held them out to his left side, as if he were presenting the man next to him. Hanamaki’s companion lifted his hand nonchalantly.

“Hey,” he said with a lazy grin and a red-tinted face. Hanamaki sighed theatrically.

“Mattsun, that wasn’t _dramatic_ enough. RETAKE.”

“It _was_ dramatic, you just don’t _understand_ my _artistic expression_.”

“ _Please_. I would give that a 65%, but there’s no way that performance would earn you the D.”

The two stared at each other for a moment, then broke down giggling. Yaku cleared his throat.

“I’m guessing you’re Matsukawa?”

“You’re guessing correct,” Matsukawa replied. “Oh, congrats, by the way.”

Yaku raised an eyebrow, confused. “For what?”

“You raised your son well. I’m truly honored to meet the proud parent of this work of art.”

Kuroo guffawed, Kenma stifled a laugh, and Yaku resigned himself to the face that his night would consist of mom jokes and caretaking. They hung out with Hanamaki and Matsukawa for a while, cracking jokes and making jabs. The two were a terrific yet terrifying duo; they could predict and build off of each other’s jokes, enjoyed teasing others far too much, and could deliver an infinite number of joint roasts. Eventually, the pair wandered off with Kuroo. Yaku spent a bit more time with Kenma, but eventually the latter excused himself to the nearest couch, where he pulled out his PSP.

It was getting late, and Yaku was considering booking it when he heard a loud crash followed by cheers from across the room. Unsurprisingly, Lev and Bokuto were in the center of all this ruckus – Bokuto was striking a power pose while Lev lay tangled on the floor. Yaku let out a sigh and made his way towards the duo.

“Hey, are you okay?” Yaku started, holding out a hand to help Lev up.

“Yeeeaahh,” Lev let out with a wide smile. “Bokuto is-“ he paused to hiccup, “like, dense~”

Lev started giggling and Yaku raised an eyebrow. Upon further inspection, the boy’s face was red. Like really, _really_ red.

“How much have you drank?”

Lev rolled his eyes up in thought, his dopey smile still plastered to his face. “Uhhhhh….like 4?”

“4 what?”

“Cups of that juice over there!” Yaku’s jaw dropped.

“Do you have _any idea_ how much alcohol is in that??”

Lev’s eyes widened. “There’s alcohol in the punch? Hehehe… that explains why I feel funny~”

“Jeez,” Yaku muttered under his breath while pulling Lev off the ground. He gave the boy a stern look. “Ok, you’re done for the night. I’m taking you home.”

“Whaaaatttttt?” Lev whined. “But Yakuuuuuu, I’m having funnnnnnn~”

“No buts, you’re coming with me,” Yaku scolded as he dragged Lev away by the hand. He wormed his way through crowds of people and managed to make it to Kenma, who was sitting in the same spot as before. Kenma looked up from his game, saw Lev, and let out an audible sigh.

“Kenma, where’s Lev’s house? I’m taking him home.”

“His house is pretty far,” Kenma responded. “He was going to stay with Kuroo and I for the night.”

“Should I drop him off there then?”

Kenma turned his head to the loud crowd next to him, then looked back at Yaku. “Kuroo has the keys, and I’m not sure where he went. I can find him if you want.”

Kenma pulled out his phone to text Kuroo, but paused and looked at the notifications on his lock screen.

“Oh…”

“What happened?” Yaku asked, concerned.

“Kuroo left the party with Hanamaki and Matsukawa and went somewhere. He said they’ll be back here in an hour…”

The two looked at Lev, who was struggling to stand up straight.

“I can take him to my place. I’ll just set up the couch,” Yaku reassured Kenma, who seemed worried for his friend.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, it’s no big deal,” Yaku smiled. “I’m used to taking care of people, especially while drunk. It’ll be fine.”

“Okay,” Kenma sighed. “Thanks, Yaku.”

“It’s really no problem,” Yaku replied, then turned to Lev and tugged on his arm. “C’mon, we’re leaving.”

“Wh-“ Lev hiccupped, “where are we going?”

“My place. You need some rest,” Yaku said as he led Lev out the door.

“Your place?? I’ve never seen it!”

“I’m aware of that,” Yaku sighed. “C’mon, let’s go.”

“You can lean on me for support,” he added as he watched Lev sway and stumble with each step. Lev nodded and pressed up next to Yaku, tightening his grip on Yaku’s hand. The warm was nice, and seemed to be spreading from his side to his face. He let out a sigh.

 _Well_ , he thought. _Here’s to another night of being the mom friend._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SUPER SUPER LATE UPDATE, SO SORRY. school is a struggle (literally just got through midterms szn, kill me now)
> 
> Kuroo and Bokuto make rly strong punch, dont drink the punch !!!!
> 
> again, stressing the fact that THERE WILL BE NO UNDERAGE / NONCON DO NOT FEAR. Hope u enjoyed and havent given up on this ty for reading

**Author's Note:**

> For anyone who noticed, I changed the summary because I thought the old one didn't really summarize the story...sorry if that caused any confusion, I suck at summaries :')
> 
> also, i have no editor, so if you guys notice that anything is off please let me know, thanks!


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